An Obscure Apostle Part 47

"He speaks of our rabbis and learned men; abominable blasphemy comes out of his mouth."

"He throws only blame upon the children of Israel!"

"He bids us plough the soil in the land of bondage."

"Rabbi Nohim, the grandfather of Rabbi Isaak, said to our fathers: 'You shall not till the soil with your own hands in the land of bondage.'"

"Rabbi Nohim was the wisest of wise men; his wisdom lighted up the whole earth."

"Hersh Ezofowich quarrelled fiercely with Reb Nohim."

"Hersh Ezofowich was a great sinner!"

"Why, does he not tell us how to make poor people rich?"

"He said we ought to become servants of the soil on which we live.

When the Messiah comes and takes us to the promised land, we shall leave this one. Why should we become its servants?"

"It was said the writing would teach us how to change sand into gold!"

"And how to drive out evil spirits."

"How to bring Moses to life again."

"They have told us lies; there is nothing wise or pleasing to the Lord in the writing."

Questions and mutterings followed rapidly one upon the other, accompanied by the scornful laughter of those that had been balked in their hopes and expectations. The melamed, towering above the crowd, threw out insulting remarks, or burst into harsh laughter full of venomous malice. Under the second wall opposite the melamed stood Ber on a bench. These two men, standing opposite each other, presented a striking contrast. The melamed shook his head and waved his arms, wildly shouting and laughing; Ber stood silent and motionless, his head thrown back, resting against the wall, and from his blue eyes that looked into the far, far distance, tears fell in thick drops.

Close to Meir in a compact body stood a dozen or more of young men, who looked with rapt attention at the reader. They breathed quickly, smiled now and then, and raised their arms and sighed. They seemed not to see or hear the crowd; their spirits, longing for truth and blindly searching for it, had fastened upon the new thoughts. A thin, quavering voice was heard from the crowd: "They talked much about that, long, long ago; when I was young." A deep sigh accompanied the young man's words. Perhaps he was one of Hersh's friends. Young boys who pushed their heads between the people laughed and shouted, then disappeared again.

The old yellow papers began to tremble in Meir's hands; upon his pale face appeared two red burning spots. He looked half angrily, half entreatingly at the public.

"Be quiet!" he called out. "Let me read the words of the great man to you to the end. He has chosen me as his messenger, and I must obey his commands."

His voice was loud and authoritative; his whole frame seemed to expand under the influence of a new power.

"Be quiet," shouted the melamed. "Let him read the abomination which hitherto has lain in hiding. Let it come forth that we may stamp it out all the easier."

"O Israel!" began the youthful voice once more. "O Israel, the third thing I ask from you is Discernment."

"In ages past, the learned men among us were called Baale Tressim or armour-bearers. What was their armour? Their armour was the understanding of the covenant. Why were they armed? To protect Israel from annihilation. They said: Israel shall not disappear from the surface of the earth, for we will give him a strong hold from the covenant of 'Moses. Thus said the Tanaim. And the Sanhedrin where they sat, and the schools in which they taught became as the a.r.s.enal where they ground and prepared their weapons. Gamaliel, Eliezer, Joshua, Akiba, and Jehuda were amongst them like suns among the stars. Others followed in their footsteps, and through five hundred years they compiled, explained and wrote the great book which they'

named the Talmud, and which through centuries was a bulwark to the Israelites, s.h.i.+elding them from the devouring elements From its pages the sons of Israel drew wisdom and comfort, and during the great dispersion they were never divided, because their thoughts and sighs went towards it and gathered round it, like children round their mother."

"But is everything which is good in itself equally perfect?"

"This book, which during five hundred years was written and composed by wise and loving men, cannot be a foolish or a bad book. He who speaks thus of it, tell him to clean his heart from evil, and then open it and read."

"There are clouds in the sky, and in the purest heart the Lord discerns a flaw. Did Jehovah himself write the books of Our Law? Did the angels write them? No; people wrote them. Has there ever been a man during all the ages who did not know what it meant to go astray?

Is there any human work which is adequate or all times and all ages?"

"The throne of the Pharaohs has been shattered; Nineveh fell into ruins; Rome which ruled over half the world broke asunder; and Greek wisdom has made way for other wisdom. The desert spreads now where once were rich and powerful cities; and cities are rising where formerly was desert. Thus human works, the greatest of them, pa.s.s away and others take their place."

"Israel! the nourishment which sustained your soul through many generations contains grain, but also chaff. In your treasure h.o.a.rds there are diamonds and worthless sand."

"The books of your Law are as the pomegranate which the foolish man ate with the rind, which left a bitter taste in his mouth. When Rabbi Meir saw him doing this, he plucked fruit from the tree, threw away the bitter rind and ate the luscious fruit. I wished to teach you as Rabbi Meir taught the man who ate the pomegranate. I wished for you the gift of discernment, for the books of your faith. Wished that you might use your intelligence as a sieve in order to separate the grain from the chaff, the diamonds from the sand; so that you may keep the pure grain and the diamonds."

"You have thrust me off for this my request; your hearts became hardened against me because of the fear and hatred towards things new. And yet it is written: 'Do not look at the vessel, but look at its contents.' There are new pitchers full of old wine, and old ones that are empty."

"Meir," whispered Ber, "look at the people!" and then he added in a still lower voice: "Depart from this place as quickly as you can."

Meir looked around at the seething, muttering crowd; a smile half-angry, half-sad came on his lips.

"I did not expect this; I expected something quite different," he said in a low voice, and he bent his head; but he raised it again almost instantly and called out:

"I am the messenger of my ancestor. He has chosen me to read his thoughts to you. I must obey him."

He drew a deep breath, then added in a still louder voice:

"He penetrated the doubts which were to arise in those who were not born, and gave an answer to them. He penetrated into the inner life of the human soul, which thirsts after truth and knowledge, and offers you freedom and happiness through my mouth. I love him as if he had given me life. I bow down before the greatness of the man who has worked out his own immortality and dwells now in Jehovah's glory.

I think as he thought; I wish for you as he wished. I am like him; I am the child of his spirit." His clear voice shook with emotion, and smiles and unshed tears were together on his mobile features.

"My ancestor says to you that all nations are moving on towards knowledge and happiness; but our heads are so full of little things that there is not room for great thoughts; that the study they call Kabala, and which you consider, is a cursed science, for it kills the Israelite's intellect and leads him away from true science."

His voice became drowned in the general uproar, laughter and groaning, so that only broken sentences reached the small, inattentive audience. Yet he did not cease speaking, but went on quicker and quicker, with heaving breast. It almost seemed as if recognising the futility of his efforts, he tried to stand at his post as messenger of the dead as long as he could. Perhaps he had not lost hope altogether.

"Woe I woe!" called out voices in the crowd. "Heresy and sin have entered the house of Israel! Out of the mouths of children comes blasphemy against holy things."

"Listen, listen!" cried Meir. "It is still far to the end of my ancestor's writing."

"Let us stop his mouth and drive him from the spot where only true Israelites should speak."

"Listen, it is written here that Israel should leave off expecting a Messiah in the flesh."

"Woe! woe! he will take from the heart of this only hope and comfort."

"Because he will not come upon earth in the shape of man, but in the shape of Time, bringing to all people knowledge, happiness and peace."

"Meir, Meir, what are you doing? You will be lost! Look at the people! Go away while there is time," whispered those around him.

Ber stood at his side. Eliezer, Aryel, Haim, and a few others surrounded him; but he neither saw nor heeded anything. Large beads of perspiration stood on the proudly-raised brow, and his eyes looked despairingly and angrily at the tumultuous crowd.

Suddenly a dull thump was heard near the entrance door. The melamed had jumped down from the bench, and, with his naked feet, stamped several times upon the floor. Then, in a few bounds, he cleared the crowd, which made way for him, and with a violent jerk of his arm threw down the bra.s.s candlestick with the yellow candle. At the same time someone climbed on the bench and blew out the lamp near the door. Except for the pale streaks of moonlight, which came through the windows, the whole room was plunged into darkness, and amidst that darkness seethed and boiled the raging element--an exasperated populace.

n.o.body could have singled out any individual expression. Words, curses, groans, came down like hailstones, and mixed together in a chaos indescribable. At last, from the wide open door of the Bet-ha-Midrash poured the dark stream of people which, outside in the court, was met by another of those who had not found room within, and were less noisy, though equally excited. A large wave of moonlight lit up the open s.p.a.ce and the Bet-ha-Kahol with its closed door and shuttered windows. On the portico steps, motionless and silent, his elbows resting on his knees, sat the shamos (messenger) awaiting orders from the interior of the building which, in the midst of the uproarious mob stood dark and mute like the grave.

The crowd broke up into many groups. One of these, the largest, crossed the gates of the precincts; shouting and struggling, it poured into the moonlit square, where it looked like a monster bird flapping its huge wings It was mostly composed of poorly-dressed men with long beards and maliciously gleaming eyes. Children of different ages flittered to and fro among them, picking up stones and mud. They all thronged towards one point; a single man surrounded by a bodyguard of friends. Pushed and knocked about, they resisted with their arms and shoulders until, yielding to the pressures they finally gave way, and were swallowed up by the crowd. Then a shower of stones fell upon the back of the man whom, until now, they had screened; dozens of hands grasped his garments and tore them into strips; upon his bare head fell mud and handfuls of gravel picked out of the gutter. In his ears thundered the yells and groans of the infuriated mob; before his face flashed the clenched fists and inflamed faces of his a.s.sailants, and beyond, as if veiled in a blood-red mist, silent and closely shuttered, appeared the house of his fathers.

Towards that house, as if to a haven of salvation, he directed his steps as quick as the grasping hands and the children crowding round his feet would let him. From his compressed lips came no sound either of complaint or entreaty; he did not seem to feel the hands that smote him or the stones, which pelted his body, and which might maim or kill him at any moment. With breast and shoulders he tried desperately to push aside the mob. It was not himself he defended, but the treasure he carried; now and then he touched his breast to make sure it was still there. Suddenly a burly figure, dressed in a coa.r.s.e s.h.i.+rt, and with a thick stick in his bands, barred his way, and shouted:

"Fools, what are you doing? Why do you not take the loathsome writing from him? The Rabbi Isaak has ordered it to be torn from him; he has bidden it in his breast!"